Dark Light
by daysdawning
Summary: AU! Harry Potter has been going to Durmstrang ever since he was eight, but when his Godfather is released and set free, he has to attend Hogwarts. Thank God it's the Triwiard tournament this year. HPxLL Revised!
1. Seconds

Story is being revised.

First Part: Flashback.

Dark Light (Revised)

Seconds

_~ somewhere a clock was ticking_

Eight year old Harry Potter had never been a particularly curious child. Every time he had searched for an answer, he remembered hits and leather, burns and more chores on his already full list of things to do each day. He kept quiet, did what he was told, stayed in his corner and prayed that today he would get something to eat. Cooling down his curiosity for a few scraps of food had soon become a way of life.

But those strangers standing in the open door screamed at his brain to say something. Yet, his mouth - where a new ghastly cut had turned dark brown - stayed shut. They didn't speak and so he didn't. He just looked down at the floor, feeling his tiny white cheeks color at their pressuring stares. He left his arms behind his back. He was wearing a stripped shirt that was too big for him - aunt Petunia had given it only after she realized that the blue sloppy mark on his left arm was noticeable.

"Who's at the door, boy?" Of course, the tone was a lot softer than it usually was, less angry. If it meant impressing people, than the Dursleys would put on a show. Harry raised his head and stared at the two men. Too tall, one had black hair pulled back in a ponytail while the other one had light brown hair cut to his ears. Rather tanned, they looked foreign. He didn't know who they were and, instead of answering, started mumbling to himself. He immediately caught himself and became frigid when he heard his uncles loud footstep.

He felt a tremor of fear when his uncle reached him. He was a big man. At least three times taller than Harry and five times as large. He was ugly, with three chins, no facial hair and light eyebrows. His eyes were a dark shade of brown that turned lighter when he was angry. Vernon stared at the two strangers before hissing at them. He noticed the black cloaks, remembered a picture of what would have been his sister-in-law and her husband and sneered. The eight year old looked away. Fear coursed through his body. It was the same look his uncle always gave him. The ones where he knew he didn't stand a chance, the ones that meant hard leather belts and no food for another week.

"Exactly what we needed, other freaks." The two men looked at each other. The black haired shrugged while the almost blond reach in his pocket. It was so quick, Harry didn't even see it. A twig was pulled out, pointed at his uncle, in a blink of eye. The fat man's eyes went out. His lips quivered a bit and the dark haired kid felt his nerves twitch. His uncle was afraid - was afraid of a tiny twig of wood.

"We only came here for the boy." It was bad english and it almost sounded like a question. But it was clear. The man with black hair stared down at him. To Harry, he was like a giant. Almost six foot, he was sure. His green eyes shook a little as he met dark ones, black ones. He bit his lip, not knowing what to do. He was afraid and relieved, anxious and calm. His senses were tingling, just like when he ended up on the roof top of his school.

"Go on. Go get your things." But he didn't move. "What are you waiting for?" Harry cringed at the impatient tone. He didn't want to be beaten again.

"I don't have anything." He answered quickly, while looking at the ground. He felt a few rustles, knew the harsh breaths were coming from his uncle. The man had difficulty standing up for a long time - that's how fat he was. Had he looked up, he would have noticed the pained look the wizards shared and the way their eyes hardened considerable.

His hand was grabbed by a larger one. Harry looked up at the dark haired man, but was only met by his back. He was being dragged out of the house. He wanted to let go, his arm was throbbing - but this was his chance of escaping. And of hoping that maybe this wasn't just a dream, that he was actually being rescued. He turned his head momentarily. He saw the light haired man with the twig push his way inside, the door closing painfully behind him.

His tiny body was lifted. The man's strong cologne and strange smell invaded his nostrils. He sneezed quietly. He felt the street in front of him slowly disintegrate before, somewhere along the trip when everything was too quick, he fainted.

.

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Harry Potter opened his eyes. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath, he released quickly, creating a loud whoosh. Scanning the room, he quickly made sure he hadn't woken up any of his other roommates. He snorted. Last night half of them had been so drunk he doubted they would wake up before twelve. He looked at the clock on the wall, it glowed dark red - almost like blood. Nine twenty two. It seemed rather pointless to go to bed and he knew Rayna was already up and about.

He took his time to get out of bed. He had been diagnosed with Low Blood Pressure when he was about ten. And while it didn't seem to matter at first, he now had to be careful. The wrong move, done too quickly would send him right back into unconsciousness. It did have some good sides. He could run longer, could exercise for hours on end and regain energy faster. And yet the smallest thing like getting out of bed or a high shock could be the end of him.

The floor was cold, even though it was mid-June. Living in Bulgaria was nice, but not because of the nice warm weather. He tiptoed around the beds and into the shower. He scanned his reflection, the mirror to high on the wall to show anything but his face. He was only 5"4, while every other guy - and girl - had at least a head on him. He wouldn't ever be as tall as Viktor who, at sixteen, was already staring down at him from his 6"2 height. He silently cursed the Dursleys, the beatings and the nightmares that followed him still even after five years.

He drummed his fingers on the bathroom sink. The scar on his forehead was the only reminder of his previous life, the only thing that could identify as the true Harry Potter. History books filled in the blanks. He guessed it would be the closest thing he would ever get to knowing the truth. Except if he could find Voldemort and ask him. A cold smile crept on his face. He knew exactly what he would do to that ass if he ever found him.

The faucets rolled slowly to the right as hot water poured out into the shower stall. The thought of Voldemort always made him wary. And while he knew his relatives would always be like that, he knew that if his parents had been alive, he wouldn't have had to suffer through everything. No beatings, no torturous nightmares or lacking. He would have been happy.

It was all _his_ fault.

He peeled off his sticky shirt and stepped out of his boxers, before disappearing into a humid, hot cloud.

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.

The Main Room wasn't even crowded. He looked at the large grandfather clock drilled in the wall. Ten o'clock. He'd spent in the shower an awful lot of time, enjoying how the mist made his skin tingle and how empty it was around him.

A few third years greeted him as he walked by. He smiled back slowly, quietly moving around the room. Five large tables were placed at equal distance around the room. Usually, first years sat together, while the second and third years shared a table and the fourth and fifth years were seated in the middle. Sixth year had their own table and the seventh year were all the way left - the same table as the teachers. But people usual sat wherever on the last day of school.

He spotted Rayna sitting alone at the sixth year table. Even though she was only a fifth year, she could have easily passed for a sixth, even a seven year. He too, he thought bitterly. He had a strong air, but because of his smallness - he was usually underestimated and looked down upon.

He hated it.

He quickly reached the table and plopped on the wooden bench across from her. Her owl, Cas, was happily stealing pieces of bread of her plate while Rayna finished a letter. He disliked owls, but Cas was one of the few he could tolerate - it seemed like the thing could actually understand what they were saying. He grabbed a plate and shoved a few pieces of watermelon, pineapple and bread into it. Durmstrang was exceptionally strict about their students' diet; healing potions hidden in vegetable juice, growing ones hidden at breakfast and supper, plenty of meat, bread and vitamins.

It sort of had grown up on him, after all these years.

"Hi darling, how was your night?" Her smile resembled more of a smirk, but he knew it was sincere - in a way. Five years spent here was enough to turn the most trusting person into a paranoid freak. They didn't only teach you academics, they made you warriors in a way. Rayna was everything he wanted in a girl. Out of this world, beautiful and with her own lineage. She had a light accent, a mix of Romanian and Canadian. Her parents had split up a few years back, and now she kept alternating from Moldova to Montreal.

He shrugged a bit.

"Nightmares again." He said slowly, chewing on a piece of pineapple.

"Maybe you should take those calming draughts before going to bed. It doesn't have as much side effects as sleeping potions. I'd be glad to steal you some." He didn't quite blush at her concerned tone, but he didn't feel his eyes glued to her mouth. He loved Rayna, not quite as a sister.

"I'm fine." He grumbled out a few words, resting his eyes on his plate. He would have liked to tell his best friend how he felt about her. He'd meet her when he was only ten. She was already very pretty at the time, but he waited too long and a year and a half later she was already wisked away by magnificent Viktor Krum - who happened to be their mutual friend. Harry knew he had no right to feel envy or anger towards Viktor Krum. They'd meet back when Harry was in his first year and about the get beaten to a pulp by a Bludger.

And yet he wondered what would have happened if they'd never met the man.

"I almost forgot. This came for you this morning." Harry looked up at the hand stretched out in his face. It was so rare to have mail actually addressed to him. He took the envelope, blinked at the Black seal and used his butter knife to open it.

"Dear Harry,"

He blinked as his eyes scrolled down. The words were being swallowed by his mind and trying to be comprehended by his brain. He heard the wood of the bench crack, probably Viktor who had just walked in, but he didn't even look up to great his friend. He drank from the letter, felt himself getting tipsy from what it was telling him.

"Sirius Black." He mumbled to himself. The name left a strain on his memory - his godfather. Released. There was no reason from him to stay away from a chance of family. He had to come home, where he belonged - England.

His heart skipped a bit. His hand shook. He felt the world slow down.

"Harry!"

Shit.

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Author's Note: This is the new chapter of the Revised version. In the end, I have to finish this story. But not with the initial plot and some chapters were too short and badly written. So I'm doing it again, with new punch-lines and ideas and plots. I hope this story will be as popular as it was before. And thank you for all your reviews and comments and favorites even though it had been a year I hadn't updated.


	2. Hole

Story is being revised.

First Part : Flashback.

Dark Light (Revised)

Hole

_~ there's a hole in the earth, i'm out_

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_Time stood still. Harry felt his muscles clench as he woke up from his nap. He imagined he was still in his cupboard and squeezed his eyes tightly. His fingers were sore and his stomach grumbled loudly. He knew he would throw up, but Aunt Petunia would force him to clean it up. So he kept it in until the saliva in his mouth slowly reduced._

_He opened his eyes carefully, but his glasses weren't on so he couldn't see anything very well. He knew there was a wall in front of him and by its muddy colour he guessed it was brown. Feeling around on his left for his glasses, he noticed he was much higher than in his cupboard. His glasses were resting on a nightstand, but it was assimilated quickly that Harry Potter did not possess a nightstand in his tiny cupboard under the stairs._

_His hands shook slightly as he put his huge thick glasses on and his heart almost jumped out of his heart when he noticed that everything around him had changed. The only lights in the room were two bright candles on each side of this huge wooden door. They created soft shadows around his bed. The door was slightly open and he could see (even though not perfectly) the figure of a man. However, the whispers he heard definitively came from a woman. The voice was soft, quiet and sad._

_"You saved him." There was a pause, another quiet whisper he didn't catch. "They caused him so much damage. I don't think I've ever seen a case of abuse as bad as this." Harry felt fear clench at his heart, was he in the hospital? He hoped his uncle wasn't near or had come to get him. "It's too early to tell just how much damage they did to him…" Harry didn't hear the rest, just internal and something about blood. He felt his stomach grumble, this loudly and blushed when the voice in the corridor stopped momentarily._

_"I think he needs you. You know what apparating does to kids!" He heard papers shuffling and then this thick manly voice saying a blunt "thank you". Harry blushed at the fact he'd interrupted the conversation and pushed his gaze on the floor when he heard the door creak. His head felt dizzy and he knew he wanted to vomit badly._

_"Look at me." Harry felt a warm finger under his chin. The person made him raise his head until green stared into curious brown one. Harry felt himself blush at the young face that stared back at him. He'd imagine someone older. His heart thumped in shyness. "You have pretty eyes." Harry felt his stomach churn, but it wasn't because of the compliment. Shit, he couldn't help it and pushed the man away so he could puke and relieve his stomach._

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"Harry wake up." He felt someone shake him violently, but couldn't quite find the will to open his eyes. When he concentrated a bit, his head hurt him like crazy and he knew – he knew he'd just suffered from his low blood pressure curse. He knew most people wouldn't consider like that, but that was the thing about a curse. It wanted to feel appealing and when you finally had it, it showed you every little flaw it possessed.

It was only when he felt something cold and wet that he opened his eyes. Rayna stood in front of him, an empty glass of water in her hand.

"What the Hell, Rayna?" Harry got up madly. He was soaking wet and she was laughing a bit, just a few chuckles but Harry still felt his dignity hanging by a threat. He scanned the Main Room and breathed out a sigh of relief when he noticed it was empty.

"They all went to listen to Karkaroff's final speech." Viktor seemed to materialize whenever had a question. His thick accent was laced with concern and Harry almost blushed. It didn't matter that he was in love with Rayna. The man did everything in his power to help him and Harry felt cheap for ever feeling angry. It wasn't his fault.

"Don't stay up like that, you need to sit down." Rayna patted the wooden bench and Harry shrugged, but still listened to her. He stepped on the paper and felt his heart momentarily stop. Shit. He'd forgotten about the letter. He picked it up roughly and plopped down next to his best friend. He made the motion to give it to her, but she pushed his hand away.

"I already read it. Why do you think it ended up on the floor?" He sighed.

"What do we do now?" Viktor and Rayna looked at each other. "What do I do now?" He felt a hand in his and looked up to see Rayna frowning. She was almost crushing his hand.

"We think and try to find Professor Levski. That's the only thing we can do right now." Harry couldn't help the fond smile that spread on his lips. Yeah, he'd go see the man.

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Ivanov Levski wasn't at Karkaroff's last speech of the year.

Of course he wasn't.

The teacher loathed the headmaster with every part of his body. The only reason he'd even taken the job in the first place was because of a very special boy and a very, very pretty nurse. When the only two beings you care about are sent somewhere, you just can't expect a man to sit there and not follow them – even if that was a huge step away from his dignity.

That's why he felt his heart skip a bit when Viktor Krum pushed open the door of his chamber supporting Harry Potter. Rayna followed, but he wasn't surprised, she was never far from either of them. The teacher dropped his book and went to help the thirteen year old.

"What happened?" he asked quickly, taking Harry away from the sixteen year old. Rayna sighed and Ivanov felt a chill run down his spin, but still remained calm – he was a good at that, ignoring his bad feelings.

"That!" The Romanian stated, holding a letter like it was the most disgusting thing she'd ever seen. He grabbed the letter and then helped Harry to his chair, much to the boy's complaints. He was able to walk, dammit.

A few minutes later, when everyone was settled and had a cup of tea in their hands (white tea, not that crap filled with growing potions Karkaroff's wanted to drink – stupid man), Professor Levski raised his head from the letter and scanned the paper one last time. He'd gotten most of it the first time, but his head didn't seem to register the message. Or maybe it was his heart, he wasn't sure.

"What do you want me do now?" It was a stupid question, but he was only a teacher and except if they wanted to kill Sirius Black, he didn't know what else he could help with.

"Tell us that we can stop this. Harry has a choice in the matter, don't you think?" Ivanov turned his head to watch his young protégé. The boy's elbows were resting on his lap and his head was safely hidden behind them. Harry was a smart boy and he knew, he already knew he didn't have any choice.

"Harry should have every choice in the matter," here it was, the thing he dreaded the most. "but sadly, he isn't of age yet and Sirius Black is his legal guardian. If he wants to take Harry away and send him to Hogwarts… we can't do anything."

Something like a sob came out from the thirteen year old's mouth, but his face couldn't be seen so he wasn't sure.

"Harry has to go." Rayna and Viktor looked at him as if he was the devil. He felt their glares burn through his clothes. "But that doesn't imply he has to make it easy for the man." He finished with a smirk. You were a Durmstrang or you weren't and when you attended the school you seemed to acquire a few traits. There was an evil gleam in Rayna's eyes. Viktor was silent. And Harry…

Well, he'd raised Harry himself and was proud to see the sadistic smile on the boy's once pained face.


	3. Vanished

Story is being revised.

First Part: Flashback.

Dark Light (Revised)

Vanished

_~ slowly disappear no, no longer here_

_._

_._

_Harry felt the whole world around him crumble in a huge blur…_

He was only eight and yet Harry already despised apparating. He liked to compare it to those rides Dudley always begged to go on when they went to the amusement park (Harry had been only once and it was because they was no one to babysit him). It made his heart beat faster, gave him an adrenaline rush and his heart skip a beat.

Harry was too green to realize that he'd clutch tightly to the man. He blushed furiously when he noticed and immediately let go, causing him to wobble ungracefully.

Mr. Levski (call me Ivanov, please) only smiled and patted him on the head gently, like he always did these days. Ever since the pretty nice nurse had allowed Harry to get out of bed, the man had been glued to his side, never letting the boy out of his sight. It felt strange, it felt like an evasion of privacy and yet it also felt rather… comforting. The man always appeared with a cold glass of water, some hot tea and even, sometimes, hot chocolate. When Harry's dizzy spells had been under control, he took the eight-year-old out for some long walks.

It felt like an odd dream and Harry desperately didn't want to wake up.

The place itself was huge, too huge and unlike any school he'd ever been too. It was large with plenty of fields. He saw a few students running not far from where he was standing. The gloomy sky didn't seem to want to let the sun through (he'd learn later on that it was a spell and that the headmaster wasn't very fond of the sun) and it created this dark and evil aura around what would have been a very decent school.

So this was Durmstrang.

Mr. Levski was tensed next to him and Harry wondered what could possibly make this six-foot, broad man nervous. The man's knuckles had already turned a ghostly shade of white and his respiration was controlled – inhale by the nose, exhale by the mouth.

What they were doing here was, to Harry, a complete mystery.

Ever since Harry had learned he was a wizard (crazy idea and he still had difficulty actually grasping what that meant and what it would mean in the future) there had been a few discussions about what school meant for the people like him. Durmstrang had only been mention in passing, quickly and without any attention of becoming a full conversation subject. Harry was not stupid, he never was, and he'd known immediately that it was a sore topic for his keeper. He hadn't asked any questions – besides, it's not like Harry talked much these days.

However, Harry was not indifferent to Mr. Levski plight. The man next to him had become, in the three weeks he'd kept company to Harry, a sort of God. He was nice, never raised his hand, never called him a freak and never yelled. He listened to the few words Harry said and always made sure he was calm so he wouldn't alert the boy.

But Harry didn't know how to comfort someone. He actually had no clue. He remembered vaguely at the playground one little boy who'd scratched his knee and his mother soothing him while holding his hand.

The gesture was shy, but Harry felt enough courage in him to do it. His tiny hand grasped tightly the rough fingers and he didn't let go. The man next to him leaned his head, eyes a bit wide. Harry blinked his large green eyes and smiled a little. Suddenly, the larger hand engulfed his tiny one and Mr. Levski smiled.

It was going to be okay…

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There were three minutes left until midnight.

Harry felt the warm butterbeer go down his throat rather nicely. It was a nice change to the two glasses of champagne he'd already have a few minutes ago. His head felt light, his body enjoying the fact that it didn't have to worry about what was supposed to happen the next morning.

The Durmstrang parties had always been grandiose. Especially when the weather allowed it. The last night of the year was dry, warm, and perfect for a large fire, drink and friends. He spotted Rayna on his left, gossiping with a few girls. She was tipsy; he could see it by the way she giggled at anything the three girls said. Viktor was off somewhere, drinking manly beer and being congratulated for his new position as Bulgaria's Quidditch team seeker.

His jealousy had been numbed away and when he'd congratulated his friend earlier he'd actually been honest. Harry felt cheap for his envy, especially towards the man who'd save him on numerous occasions, but tonight he didn't have to dwell on it. He had better things to worry about.

Sirius Black was supposed to pick him up tomorrow morning, at nine o'clock, at King's Cross Station in England.

His Professor had been the one to contact his godfather for the information (much to the man's disappointment) and they had agreed that he would be the one delivering Harry to the destination (not like any one would have a say in this, they were no other options).

Rayna and Viktor would tag along. That too had been very clear. He'd seen her with that huge family book of hers she only took out when she wanted to murder someone. He just hoped she wouldn't do it in front of a large crowd.

Harry had just watched, knowing that he couldn't do anything else. He didn't even know what the man looked like.

The fire warmed him a bit, he could see a few third year girls watching him and giggling in their drunken stupor. He wondered if one of them would come up to him. At this point, the idea of snogging was rather appealing. His hormones were raging and the alcohol didn't help at all.

He needed desperately to get out of this melancholic state. Professor Levski told him to enjoy the party, to have fun while he made researches (the man was up to something that was sure. The glint in his eyes, the way his knuckles became white) and Harry had to agree that he was enjoying his last moments here.

The pretty blonde winked at him, her black eyes reflecting the flames. He smiled, but didn't do anything else. He turned back to watch Rayna and Viktor who, by now, had returned dutifully to her side. He smiled a bit while taking a sip of his beer, they certainly were the 'it' couple. Rayna turned around and spotted him. She smiled and motioned for him to come over.

Harry rolled his eyes, but still did as he was told. Rayna, only her, had that power. Sometimes he wondered, maybe if he'd made that decision to tell her earlier, back when he was a first year, he would be the one holding her waist with his arm, the one to hold her and kiss her. The one she'd look at with her black eyes and whisper sweet things to. He snorted at the last thought, there wasn't a sweet bone in her.

Viktor ruffled his hair playfully when he reached them and Harry pulled his tongue at him. Rayna giggled, the red wine in her glass moving slowly as she did so. And then it hit Harry, it hit him just as Viktor ruffled his the mop on his head and Rayna took his hand in hers.

This was probably the last time he was spending here in Durmstrang with his friends; surrounded by people he'd known all his life. He wouldn't be going home with Professor Levski tomorrow morning and wouldn't come back in the fall to start his fourth year. It hit him suddenly, just like that.

Harry turned his head momentarily. The pretty blonde was still smiling at him, but now even moving seemed like a chore. He checked his watch.

It was twelve and two.

His world was starting to crumble.

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.

Harry was a morning person. Viktor was too. Rayna on the other end wasn't very pleasant in the mornings. She was already fuming as they ate breakfast, was on the verge of cracking when they left and now at King's Cross Station she was about to kill someone – probably the next person who bumped into her.

Harry found it absolutely funny and would have laughed had it not been a very peculiar situation. His backpack was carefully guarded on his back, the new books Professor Levski had given him tucked safely in it. The man was stoic next to him. Between Viktor and his teacher, Harry felt like something precious that was about to be exchanged. It wasn't a nice feeling.

His backpack also contained the tickets Viktor had given him to go see the Quidditch World Cup and the stones that Rayna had given him – protection stones meant to ward off people with bad intent.

The big grandfather clock indicated ten to nine. They were early. It was probably the intention anyways. Professor Levski guided them in the huge crowd that was present even this early. The clock ticked away, minutes evaporating as they walked. Harry knew what this feeling was; dread. Rayna held his hand tightly.

It took a few seconds and then the seconds became minutes, but they finally reached what Harry guessed was the meeting point. The small group of people all turned simultaneously and Harry didn't know exactly whom he was supposed to glare at.

The man who looked the most ruffled was paying extra close attention to him and Harry knew, Harry knew exactly who the man was when his eyes widen as he caught a glimpse of him. He probably didn't look anything like they thought he would. Professor Levski cleared his throat and gave those people an annoyed look.

"Sirius Black, I presume?" His accent felt thicker than usual. The man who'd look at him a few seconds ago stepped up and shook his teacher's hand distractedly. He was obviously trying not to stare. Rayna almost broke his hand as she clutched it hard.

Professor Levski turned around and looked at Harry.

"If anything goes wrong," He was speaking extra loudly, to be sure the man heard him right. "you contact me, and I'll make sure everything is taken care of." The man shifted, his godfather was uncomfortable.

"Oh Harry." Rayna buried her head in his shoulder. The hug was welcomed and yet made him extremely sad. He felt Viktor patting his head. Usually, it would annoy him, but now the gesture was welcomed.

It would have lasted longer had it not been for one of the members of the opposite group to clear their throats. Rayna shot him a murderous look, but eventually let go. Even Viktor seemed ready to pounce at any time.

Harry looked at his teacher who, even though looked stoic, opened his arm. Oh, Harry would miss the man. He was more than just a teacher, he was a mentor and, dare he say, the father he never had. "You'll always be welcomed to visit Harry, anytime." Harry nodded and detached himself from the embrace.

He turned his head, muttered a quick I love you to Rayna who smiled and I'll miss you to both men and turned around with a blank look to stare at his godfather. Sirius Black looked like a man who'd just gotten out of prison. Everything about him looked rough.

"Hi" He said simply, intimidated when the boy didn't respond anything to him. Harry didn't belong here and he didn't want to pretend he did.

"Let's go, if you are ready?" What a stupid question.

"I'll never be ready." He noticed how his accent was a lot stronger, more foreign. His godfather brushed the comment away and placed his hand on his shoulder to guide him away.

A few seconds later, his world became a blur again. Even after five years, Harry still hated apparating.

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**A\N: Thank you everyone for still following this story and reviewing and generally being awesome. I know Harry should have a choice in the matter, but when did he even have a choice to begin with? Reviews are welcomed. Besides that, college is very interesting and not at all like high school. Next chapter should come out soon. Thanks for reading.**


	4. Scar

Story is being revised.

Last Part: Flashback.

Dark Light (Revised)

Scar

_~ pull out their eyes, apologies, emerald waves to lubricate_

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The first week goes by in a flash. His arrival is a quiet one, especially with Professor Levski's frequent visits. The man is there to make sure everything goes smoothly. He leaves Harry small packages in the corner of his room. Books and clothes and presents. Harry doesn't open them, but he can see the package full of vials and he knows they are sleeping potions.

"You'll be fine Harry and I'm sure your Godfather will let your friends visit." It's said more like a statement, but the man nods his head anyways. He'd do anything to make his godson feel at home – it's kind of hard to hate the man. But Harry is doing a pretty good job at it.

It's only after the first week that Harry opens the many packages inside his room. He doesn't unpack, not yet. Even though he hates the mess in his antic room, it's better than to acknowledge the fact that he'll be staying here – much better.

There are books: they talk about many things. Potions and Transfiguration, and Harry rolls his eyes when he sees the man even gave him homework to do during the summer – typical. What interests him is Occlumency and he wonders why his teacher gave him that sort of book. There is a hidden note in Bulgarian "There are evils disguised as saints where you are now." It puzzles him.

He starts studying him that same day.

The second week is a lot less smooth. He is drunk on sleeping potions and barely gets out of his room. He hangs Rayna's letters on his wall and hides the new broom Viktor sent him. It's depression that settles in, even though he isn't quite sure what it is yet. His body feels tired even though he's always sleeping and Rayna's worries only make him miss her more.

"Harry, are you hungry? I brought you dinner." Harry turns his attention away from his book and looks at his Godfather standing in the doorway. He's holding a tray, filled with different food and a piece of pumpkin pie. He wants to say he's not hungry just to be spiteful, but his stomach growls painfully and he sighs, closing his book.

"Thank you." He says as he grabs the tray. He thinks the man will take a hint and go away, but he steps inside the room anyways.

"You haven't unpacked yet, I see." When he doesn't get any other answers, he continues to try and make small talk. "This used to be my brother's room." Harry chews on a piece of chicken. He's bored already. Sirius stumbles out of the room awkwardly.

It's one of their better encounters.

And it continues like this as the third week rolls in. Sirius comes in his room to give him his food and Harry barely even thanks him.

He also notices the house is getting fuller. He is introduced to Ronald Weasley as he is going to the bathroom. The red head stumbles on his words and even giggles. Harry shuts the door of the bathroom in his face.

He misses Rayna when he sees Ginny Weasley eying him like a piece of meat. She'd make fun of her, he's sure. The girl is too pale and she has too much freckles. She always tries to catch him when he's coming out of his room. Well, it's settled then. He barely comes out now.

The fourth week comes with a warning and a surprised visit.

It's July 31st.

His stomach isn't agreeing with him – too much sleeping potions will do that to one's self. He still hangs Rayna's and Viktor's letters on his walls and he rereads them five times before going to bed.

"My father told me to warn you." It's written in Russian and it takes Harry two hours to finally finish the freaking letter. But when he does he's puzzled. He'd heard of Albus Dumbledore here and there, but never as a threat. And here Viktor was, warning him and suggesting quite openly that the only reason he was taken from his family was because of him. He was fuming.

Mad at someone he hadn't even met yet.

He's doing an internal monologue when he hears the scream. He's finally gone mad. Rayna stumbles in front of him: murderous look in her eyes and wand in hand. Her hair is pulled behind in a ponytail and her jeans are so tight Harry can see the Weasley's mouth literally dropping on the floor – because yes, there are more people to the family, believe it or not. George (or is it Fred?) is on the floor clutching his arm. Probably tried to hit on her and Harry is so excited his heart stops.

Quite literally, he faints.

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"I'm sorry I barged in there." Harry laughs and takes a drag of those cigarettes Rayna brought with her. Canadian cigarettes are good, especially when you don't smoke them often. People look at them as they walk hand in hand down the street. Harry is actually taller than Rayna today; she's wearing flat ballerina shoes.

He rolls his eyes. Like it would bother him. She could have kicked down the front door for all he cared. She could have threatened Sirius with a chainsaw and he would still welcome her (and that last thought is hilarious).

"I'm glad you came." He takes another drag, liking the way his throat burned. He wonders if he should smoke in front of Sirius. The man would probably brush it off as a sign of rebellion – moron.

"How is it? There, I mean." He thinks of Sirius. He thinks of Ginny Weasley who likes to stalk him and of Ronald Weasley who is trying to be his best friend. He remembers the pranks George and Fred like to play on people. He thinks of that one time he set fire the garbage in the bathroom and that time he almost killed one of the twins for touching his stuff. He wants to tell her he's been drinking sleeping potions into oblivion and that he misses her so much and that he loves her.

"Bad." He settles for that and takes another drag, this time a lot longer and doesn't look directly at her. She knows he's lying, but brushes it off.

"Let's go get a drink then." He looks at her, his eyebrow raised.

"Rayna, we aren't legal yet." She mimics his look.

"Harry, you're in London. No drinking age, remember?" Yes, he remembered and he also wanted to smack himself for forgetting that. Well, now he knew what to do instead of taking sleeping potions.

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Rayna and he stumble home. He's so drunk he almost forgot where he was living. It's five o'clock and when he opens the door he's greeted by a frowning Sirius and a very old man – very is an understatement. The man is ancient. Yeah, that's the word he's looking for: ancient.

"Harry, there you are. I wanted you to meet Albus Dumbledore." His eyes have difficulty focusing on something other than the long beard. It's so long. Does it reach the floor? He wants to wipe the floor with that beard.

"Mister Potter, we meet at last." He looks at the outstretch hand a few seconds. His stomach isn't agreeing with him. He needs to lie down, but there aren't any chairs near. Oh, he's going to throw up.

Rayna falls on the floor laughing and he doesn't feel bad. Actually, he feels pretty great. He'd like a burger now.

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The fifth week rolls in.

Two weeks left before the Quidditch Cup and three weeks left until he starts school. In a week, Sirius will take him to visit Hogwarts. He isn't looking forward. When he asks the man why he can't return to Durmstrang, the man gets all awkward, tugging on the collar of his old t-shirt.

"It's too far away. And I think your mom and dad would've like you going to Hogwarts." Harry rolls his eyes.

"They're dead." And with that he turns around, ignoring Sirius' dumbfounded look and bewilderment.

He goes shopping for school supplies. It's the most boring thing ever. At least, when Rayna asks him (well, it's more like threatening and she's really scary so he agrees) he knows he'll have fun. Try shopping with a bunch of Weasleys. He escapes when he says he's going to Madame Malkins.

"I'd like two sets please." The woman is tall, with very precise fingers. She makes him stand on a stool and take his measurements before telling him to wait ten to fifteen minutes. He catches a glimpse of red hair in the street and decides to wait patiently in the shop. He doesn't want a scene, especially not with Ginevra Weasley.

His eyes quickly scan the room. It's rather empty, he thinks maybe he's one of the very few people who actually shop this early and he's right: the only other occupant is a very blond boy who is sitting silently in the corner, a book about Dark Arts in his hands.

The boy is about his age, maybe a few months older. He looks tired, with huge bags under his eyes. He's taller than Harry, but much more skinnier. His clothes look expensive and his overall look is very posh. But the boy seems to down to even acknowledge there is someone staring at him - that is if he even feels it.

"Mr..?" The woman is looking at him expectantly, obviously waiting for his surname. He doesn't think giving his right name is a good idea, so he goes with the second best choice. "Bathory." Rayna probably won't mind using it, besides her father is always insisting he's apart of the family.

The woman doesn't give him a second glimpse and hands him a bag and a price. He pays it without even a blink of an eye and thanks her before getting the hell out of the shop.

At least, he concedes, they aren't only red heads at Hogwarts.

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The Quidditch World Cup is everything Harry expected. They get to go backstage to see Viktor. Rayna has a red sweater to cheer the team up. She does, all the guys turn around to look at her and her short ripped denim shorts. She's also wearing those black ballerina flats. Quite frankly, she looks gorgeous and he doesn't miss the pride is Viktor's eyes when he sees her walking inside the tent.

Harry follows. He remembers when he told Sirius Viktor Krum had invited him to the World Cup. The man had been mildly impressed, but it was the others reactions that had made it the most amusing. All of their jaws had dropped and Harry had felt a sense of – well he doesn't actually know what to call it but he wanted to step on their heads and step and step.

Viktor ruffles his hair and hugs him. Harry's glad to his best friend. It's been a while and he hopes the Bulgarians win tonight. He didn't have Rayna put red paint on his face just for the thrill of it.

"You'll win tonight." It's a statement and Viktor gives him a high five. He kisses Rayna on the mouth and gets hooted. His best friend smiles before taking his broom.

"Meet you on the field." His accent is thicker than usual and Harry can only imagine it's because he's nervous and trying to hid it. Rayna winks at him and pushes Harry out of the tent.

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There is a scream. Harry's so drunk he thinks it's someone who passed out.

Bulgaria won and the Death Eaters arrive. Rayna grabs him so quickly he doesn't even have time to put his shoes on. She grabs Viktor and yells at him to apparate.

Harry grumbles down on the floor of Rayna's room. He has dreams that night, he dreams of a scar.

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"That scar, what is it?" Professor Levski sighs. Harry pretends to be asleep. He can barely hear, but he's curious about his scar too.

The answer is a blur, he doesn't really get it either.

"Can it be removed?"

"Painfully, but yes. It can be removed."

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**I'm so sorry for the long wait. But I wanted to get the summer quickly over with so I can start with Hogwarts and Luna. And who was that blond boy in the shop? I think we all know. The story will start to change now and it won't be like last time.**


	5. Paradise

Story being revised.

Dark Light (Revised)

Paradise

_ ~ i'm tired of all these cages i want to burn them all down_

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He lets the sun wash over him, basks in it like he hasn't seen it in sometime (and to be honest it's been a while, all cooped up in his room – it's not really his room, but he'll call it that to avoid confusion – only going out at night for a smoke and dry humid air). Rayna stands next to him, all pretty in a white soft dress, her hair curled (Viktor is off somewhere, but never too far) and she smiles and he can't help it: a slow smile starts spreading softly…

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"Your sorting is in thirty minutes." He groans something and buries his face back into his pillow so he won't see the reproach etched on his godfather's place ('I don't think you should go out this late, you're getting sorted at ten tomorrow'). A grey, unhealthy light is already coming from the open curtains and he wonders just who the hell cares about sorting anyways. He prefers Durmstrang, he prefers his own potion teacher and he prefers not getting woken on his last few days of vacation.

When he hears the door of his room closing, he sits up groggy and rubs his eyes to the point where they hurt. Grabbing his glasses, he takes a few minutes to breath in and out and slowly the blood starts flowing in his veins again and he thanks whoever is up there that he just avoided another low blood pressure fainting.

The next few minutes are painful (a shower and then brushing his teeth, trying to put his clothes on while suspecting Ginny Weasley is on the other side of the door peeping), but he finally struts in the living room where Sirius is waiting for him with a handful of floo powder ('why not just apparate?' and 'You can't apparate in Hogwarts, there are wards, that's how the school keeps itself protected.')

"Don't worry." Sirius catches him looking off, interprets it wrong – of course. "It will be fine, you're a Gryffindor; just like your father and your mother. You'll make them proud." He looks at the man for a minute and then a slow, awful smile spreads on his lips, which the godfather once again interprets all wrong.

"I'm sure." And what he really means is 'not'.

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Karkaroff's office was bland. There were barely any decorations, the walls were painted a strong brown and the seats were all made of old and yet strangely comfortable leather. He went a few times in there, mostly because of Rayna and Viktor – what hits him the most of Dumbledore's office is that it looks more like an antic shop than a headmaster's bureau.

He is asked to sit on a stool (it doesn't look solid and is situated in the middle of he room where every can see him properly; his godfather on his right side while the old man holds a strange, dead looking hat on his left. In front of him stands what he now knows as his potion's teacher and a rather old gray cat who keeps it's eyes firmly on his movements) and too relax. He almost falls off the stool when the hat springs to life as it lands on his head.

'It's too early.' It grumbles loudly in his brain and Harry pulls out his tongue in discomfort, this is not worth waking up at ten for. The thing nods, almost agreeing with him. This is all surreal and he is a wizard. 'Let's do this quickly, shall we?'

A few seconds later, the hat shouts and falls back in a heap on the floor – lucky bastard, already asleep while he has to share a room with a bunch of kidnapping psychos, but then he looks up and his frown changes into a smirk. Sirius has paled considerably, Dumbledore pinching his long beard and the potions master gives unbelieving eyes and yet sarcastic smile – the cat disappeared.

"What's wrong with Slytherin?"

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Luna likes to make her fingers walk (it reminds her of a small soldier marching towards his fate and what he believes in – whether he dies for his convictions or lives, she still hasn't decided, but no one lives forever, especially those soldiers). She especially likes to make him walk on bridges made of woods and tables and mostly anything that is too high. It looks like he's floating.

She likes London streets at ten o'clock. Of course, her daddy doesn't know (he's working late again on the magazine, something about the savior coming back and beating the Daily Prophet), she doesn't want him to worry – but she'll have tea all ready for him when he gets back with dark circles under his eyes and exhausted well past midnight. Her wand is tucked away on her ear, hidden under thick blond hair.

Settling on a bench, she doesn't really find it comfortable, but the pond illuminated by the soft glow of the moon makes it all bearable. She likes the sun, the way it warms up her soul (and yet it never soothes it, never really warms up because what she wants, she can't bring herself to ask – desires she suppresses so she can be happy), but the mood with its ghostly shade makes her feel at ease. She will always remain a girl of the moon.

And too caught on inside her thoughts, she hears too late the bench cracking and turns wide eyes at the intruder who is sitting next to her. She appears calm (and she doesn't calm down when she notices that the person sitting next to her doesn't mean any harm except for that cancer stick hanging off his lips) - the boy about her age doesn't react.

"It's not good for you, you know?" He turns to look at her, snarky eyes and small smirk (it reminds her of his smirk, but she doesn't want to think about him right now. Oh, the other one is beautiful and god-like, but the boy right next to her is also too beautiful to be true and probably a lot more reachable).

"I know." There is an 'it's exactly why I do it' left hanging, unsaid and yet she understands a lot more than just the meaning of the words. She doesn't even know why she bothered telling him, but the moon is bright and it's not like she has a chance of meeting him again – soon enough she'll be off to Hogwarts and the muggle boy will be off living his life and being a normal teenager. He steals a glance at her, before taking a large intake of smoke.

The air is thick, humid: the exact kind of weather to expect in August in London. But at the night, the wind is a little more present and the white t-shirt she's wearing sticks to her skin and the flows a bit.

"What is your name?" Again, too caught on in her own thoughts she forgets there's someone next to her and she turns around to see him looking at her. The smirk is still there, but it's less bitter and almost like a smile. The cigarette is still hanging off his lips and his eyes are on her.

"Luna."

"Luna, nice to meet you. I'm Harry." She shakes his hand with a small smile, wondering if he likes tea.

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Harry suspects his godfather is quite uncomfortable in such a huge crowd (people walking past them give pitiful eyes and shameful smiles and of course he'd never betray Lily or James, but no one ever spoke and… well you know what happened). The man is looking suspiciously around, expecting something to jump so he can go hide away for a reason – but when he looks down at Harry he smiles, expectant smiles like he has a right to be here because of him.

But the man is wrong – Harry doesn't belong here. He's not the kind little savior they painted him to be in the magazines. It's a clue: Slytherin. He's meant to be a Gryffindor, brave and also rash and dumb. Instead, he's cool and controlled and just doesn't care about saving the wizarding world (it's madness to ask that of a fourteen-year-old, it's madness to ask that of anyone really).

Ginny Weasley keeps trying to grab his arm ('I'd like you to meet my friends' and she giggles and he feels something like bile raising from his stomach, a very unpleasant feeling) and when she finally succeeds, he pushes her roughly away, earning him an annoyed look from Sirius. But that doesn't faze him and he goes back to people watching.

He catches a whiplash of blond hair and turns to look – surprise animating his features (it's the first emotion he's showing today, besides annoyance of course). Oh, she's here. She isn't just a pretty little girl, she's a pretty little witch, and even if he knows she's aware somebody is staring at her (she's good at that, he noticed, after three cups of tea the other day) she doesn't turn around, obviously too busy with an old man who is obviously her father.

Harry wants to go after her (he finds it oddly comforting to know she's here, but he doesn't know why and he certainly won't spend thinking this through because the only girl who affects him is Rayna and that's it), but Sirius places a firm hand on his shoulder and he finally notices people rushing by to get into the fuming train.

"You'll do them proud."

But when he turns around, she already disappeared away.

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Luna follows a pattern. Really, it's always the same.

So she sits alone in the same compartment - hasn't changed in three years and she waits (but today there's just a feeling something is going to happen to shift the ordinary, something good she hopes) and she waits again. He opens the compartment door, of course he does, precisely fifteen minutes after she gets there and he doesn't smile – he never does.

"Lovegood."

"Malfoy." But she smiles and she always does, never quite too much and yet just enough to know he's welcomed to bother her (she's not going to turn him away, will always help if she can).

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He's trying to find an empty compartment (that's what he tells himself, but he's actually trying to find her. He's not ready to admit yet, so he makes up excuses in his head and it works, denial is wonderful).

But when he finally finds her (he means an empty compartment, but there's someone in it and too contradictory, but he still pushes the door and his brain is screaming at him to wake up – she's the only good thing here), she's sitting with someone else. The boy, he met him before, probably while walking around. He feels he's interrupting something, but it's too late he's already inside and he can't turn around now.

"Harry." She smiles, she remembers him and the boy in front of her is not her boyfriend (and when he finally looks at the boy his age, he realizes he could never compete, just like he can't compete with Viktor) and relief washes over him. Every muscle unclenches and the tension leaves. He can breathe again.

"Luna." He says with a small smile (and he is not smitten and not glad she remembers him and he doesn't feel his heart jumping a beat when she motions for him to sit next to her and he doesn't think she's beautiful because Rayna is the only one who could ever have that affect on him and oh god, denial really is the shit).

She finds herself being the mediator. He sits down next to her and she smiles. The boy in front of him is too blond and too good-looking and obviously unhappy (whether it's because he was like that before or because he interrupted something he isn't quite sure), but when he realizes they are only friends and that the boy warms up enough to introduce himself he starts thinking that maybe, just maybe he could be his friend too.

"I'm in Slytherin." The thought is welcomed, a boy his age in his house – perfect. And then Harry introduces himself fully, with his last name and all (he expects a reaction, the good or bad kind, the surprised eyes and the admiration) the two only look at each other.

"Oh, we already figured."

He makes a mental note to be friends with those two, at least for the time he stays in Hogwarts.

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He's sitting next to Draco when Dumbledore finally raises from his chair to speak ('stupid sorting, what did you say about Durmstrang?'). He does enjoy Slytherin (especially when he notices how far the Weasleys are from him and how they all match with the red crest on their uniforms. Green suits him better). Luna is all alone at the Ravenclaw table – he doesn't like how the other girls stare at her funnily, but it's not because he likes her.

"First students I have an exciting news." He waits for everyone to be looking up and he takes a deep breath. "First I would like to welcome our new transfer student. Please give a big hand for Harry Potter." Oh this time he gets a big reaction, especially when they don't find him sitting at the Gryffindor table, but nestled comfortably with the Slytherins and with Malfoy next to him.

"And the second news is that this year we will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament here, at Hogwarts. In a week's time, we will be joined by the lovely ladies from Beauxbatons academy and the proud people of Durmstrang." While people are cheering loudly, he sits surprised and at the same time amazed.

Durmstrang? Could it be…

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**I'm so sorry this took so long. Life has been hectic and jobless and well, eating is important so I had less time to upload, but I think I'm on a good track. Sorry the chapter is short, they will get longer from now long :)**


	6. Black

Story being revised.

Dark Light (Revised)

Black

_~ why would you offer more? why would you make it easier on me..._

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Lavender Brown feels like a complete idiot – the sorting fest has just ended and while people are returning to their houses and making plans she's here bawling her eyes out (Seamus Finnigan, stupid useless tool, of course he had to cheat).

She wipes a few stubborn tears on the sleeve of her uniform, wanting nothing more than to crawl on the floor like a little kid and wait for the ache to pass – but it doesn't pass, even after fifteen minutes of staring mindlessly into space, but she can't go back, not now, doesn't want to see his joking face and colourful smile (she wants to see him in pain, wants him to suffer just as much as she is right now, bring him to his knees and make him beg).

And then she hears the footsteps approaching and she looks up when an awkward voice asks 'Are you okay?' She doesn't look up just yet, doesn't recognize the voice and hopes it's no one from her house. Slim glasses sparkle in the moonlight hallway and her breath catches in her throat (the boy in front of her is absolutely gorgeous – but she realizes that she is looking at Harry Potter, Slytherin celebrity, with snot in her noes and teary eyes).

"Yeah, I'm fine." She chokes it out, wants to stand up to prove her point but her legs don't move. She feels weak, but he isn't at all what she expects. He doesn't sneer or run away from her, doesn't believe her lies. Instead, he sits down next to her, tracing patterns on the floor. He doesn't ask what happened (she wonders if it's because he doesn't care or because he's waiting for her to pour her heart out).

And then a minute ticks away, two – he still hasn't left so she takes it as a good sign, but doesn't want to sound like an idiot. Boy problems are hardly his concerns, from what she's heard he'd been snatched away from Durmstrang and brought here as if he belonged with the lots of them (she can't imagine what it would be like to leave Hogwarts behind, he must be going through hell).

Finally, she finds enough courage to wipe her tears with a shaky hand and smiles (it's not her usual bratty smile or even a confident one, but she wants to smile for him).

"I'm sorry. I look like a total mess." He smiles lightly: she can barely see it in the darkness.

"I don't mind. I'm lost actually. Draco left and I couldn't find him again." He's different from what she expected. He's a lot smaller, a lot bulkier and his glasses aren't huge. He looks quite sophisticated – it makes sense why he would hang out with someone like Draco Malfoy. He doesn't look as snarky as a Slytherin (and then she is painfully reminded that appearances aren't everything because Seamus certainly didn't look like the type who'd cheat, tears are rising again, she pushes them down).

"Do you miss him? Your friends I mean." Her question catches him off-guard, the smile wipes away from his face and replaced with a frown. She's hit a soft spot, but he doesn't point it out. He nods.

"They are like family." She can't imagine what it would be like. Her sister pisses her off to no extent (stupid ten year old brat) and her mother, for a witch, is sometimes very stupid – but they'd beat Seamus up for what he did, because that's just what family does.

"I can't imagine what you are going through."

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His first class of the day is Charms with Gryffindors – Draco won't be joining him. His first class of the day is Transfiguration, but they'll meet up in Potions right after with Hufflepuff. Then he has Divination with Ravenclaw, followed with Ancient Runes again with Gryffindor. His last period of the day is a free one and both he and Draco agree to meet.

His entrance in the classroom is followed by hushed comments and wide gossip – the sea of red uniforms follows his every move until he finds a spot just in the middle of the class. There is an empty seat right next to him and he wonders just that will have the nerve to sit next to him. Someone else enters the room and he hears mean giggles, followed by another wave of gossip. He turns around to see the girl of last night looking extremely uncomfortable by all the attention. Her eyes are red, probably from crying herself to sleep. None of her fellow housemate seems particularly to host her at their table. He rolls his eyes.

She's looking around the room when he raises her hand to wave at her. She's surprised, but pleasantly because she smiles at him (she's so grateful) and takes the seat on his right. People around them watch the scene while glaring daggers in her back. He hears the girls next to him whisper 'how do they know each other?'

"Thanks." Small word and he nods, glaring at anyone who is staring at the pair. Durmstrang was never like this, sure, there was gossip, but people stuck together. They were thought early that unity was power, especially if you wanted to survive the wizard world.

She takes a piece of parchment and writes her name on top. Her name is Lavender.

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Potions class is uneventful except for a chubby redhead who makes her cauldron explode. He is paired up with Draco, no surprises there. They separate again, but before Draco shows him where the Astronomy tower is. Divination's class is the highest classroom of all Hogwarts.

He smiles when he sees Luna with a magazine in front of her face. He'd barely recognize her if it wasn't from her wand peeking on the right side of said magazine. He sits down next to her, the old table moving a bit.

"Hello Harry." She says, before putting the magazine back into her bag. "How was your first class of the day?" He shrugs, wants to tell her about Lavender and how he hates Hogwarts. He wants to tell her about how much he misses Rayna's snarky comments and how he wishes he was with Viktor for his last year of school.

But he just can't, the words catch in his throat at the sight of her pretty gray eyes.

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He skips through Divination (Luna is advanced in Divination, no wonder why – and besides, it's good for her bullying she tells him, older people just don't pay attention to her) than makes his way towards the Great Hall with her (much more stare from the female population). Lavender smiles at him when he passes the Gryffindor table (if she's surprised to see him with Luna Lovegood, she doesn't show it). Draco stares at the pair with a smirk before Luna waves him goodbye and hopes there is pudding.

When Draco comments on how Harry should make a move, he is rewarded with a soft punch in the shoulder and when he starts laughing at the hard blush creeping on his new friend's face, Harry just rolls his eyes and blushes even more (he doesn't actually understand just why she initiates such a reaction in him, Rayna is still the only woman he'll ever love).

He eats a cucumber sandwich – but loses his appetite when he notices just how much people can't keep their eyes off of him. He can't wait for lunch to be over and escape in Ancient Runes (Draco is taking that class, his mother insisted – insisted meaning she forced him).

Ancient Runes is uneventful and when last period rolls in and Draco makes him go outside he feels like he can breathe again. When the teen pulls out a pack of smokes he's even more grateful, taking a cancer stick and lighting it up rather quickly. He sits under a tree trunk, with a blond god – and just enjoys a breeze. He wonders if Rayna is having fun right now, if Viktor is making her so happy she's forgotten about him (he finds himself stupid for even thinking that, yet he does).

Draco tenses up next to him and Harry looks up to see Lavender coming over to them. Rayna is the only female he's ever had an actual lasting friendship with and Luna reminds him so much of his best friend – but Lavender, he's not quite sure who she reminds of. She smiles at him – she's obviously pretty: with wild curls and gentle eyes framed with thick lashes.

"Hey Harry." She smiles at him and then frowns at his friend.

"Malfoy."

"Brown." His friend replies courtly.

"I just wanted to say thank you for this morning." He nods. "You don't know how much that meant to me." There is the unspoken 'I don't understand how a Slytherin is more nice to me than my friends, glorious Gryffindor.'

"Sit with us." Draco turns to look at him with disbelief (she is a half-blood and he a Gryffindor and you know what this means right?) Harry gives him a (you do realize I am a half-blood too). His friend huffs and crosses his arms over his chest while Lavender smirks and pulls her tongue at him.

Looking at them acting like little kids, he has a flashback.

He misses Rayna and Viktor.

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Draco knows when he opens the package that his mother sent him there is something terribly wrong – oh, he's no fool, something been wrong for quite a few years now, but these days are even worse (and he knows that when his mother serves him tea in the morning it is laced with potions and when his father disappears in his office for hours it means something).

The package itself is rather harmless, inside he finds a letter – from his mother, money – the only way his father knows how to speak to him and an old journal. But he knows it's his mother's way of helping him.

It's a clue.

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Cho Chang corners her on her way out of the library. She threatens her, calls her insane and then, in a fit of rage because 'Harry Potter isn't meant for you' takes the clip in her hair and gives her a nasty cut on the side of her face.

Somewhere, deep inside of her, she hopes Harry would be here to stop this. She hopes he would tend and care for her wound and that everything will be different.

But even she knows she sounds hopeless.

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Harry feels excitement bubbling in his chest as every gathers for the arrival of the other competing schools. He wonders if Rayna is here, a few meters away from him. He wants to be able to hug her.

But he'd be lying if he said life at Hogwarts was as bad as he thought it would be. Draco (who is rather displeased with his choice of friends and Lavender (who is always bickering with Draco over the simplest thing) make it bearable. But then Luna is rather distant, especially since she scarred her cheek falling down the stairs. He's tried to talk to her and she never pushes him away – but he can't fully reach her and it infuriates him (but he doesn't know why he cares so much).

In all, the first week wasn't so bad. Dumbledore hadn't made any moves yet and most of his teachers were okay (but could never compete with any of the teachers at Durmstrang) and he wonders if Professor Levski made the trip.

They all gather around in the Great Hall, while Dumbledore paces. Students run inside and it takes about five minutes before the old headmaster starts his speech. He is impatient, anxiety and hope literally killing his insides.

"Now, students, I would like you all to help me welcome the lovely ladies of Beauxbatons academy and their headmistress: Madame Maxine." The doors open once again, revealing a variety of beautiful ladies all clad in blue uniforms and strutting in the room while butterflies made of glitter flitter from their hands. The headmistress, a giant woman, walked proudly and kissed Dumbledore on the cheek.

"And now, please welcome, the proud sons of Durmstrang and their headmaster Igor Karkaroff." The sound of war filled his eyes and he looked up in recognition at their usual march. He saw their antics; nervously cracked his hands and then he finally saw them. Viktor looking as deadly as ever with an always gorgeous Rayna at his side.

"RAYNA." He yells and everyone stares at him while she turns around and smiles, laughing quietly as everyone stares at them, even Draco is looking at him is disbelief (probably because that's the most emotional he's ever seen his friend) and while the other students are spreading around and Karkaroff gives a manly hug to Dumbledore – Rayna makes his way towards him.

What he doesn't expect is Viktor's bone crushing hug and yet he relishes in it, while Rayna chuckles at their embrace and simply takes her coat off. He gives her a hug, can't believe it has been so long since he could do that.

"Oh, this is Draco Malfoy." He introduces his friend and Viktor shakes his hand while Rayna eyes the boy before giving a large smile. She approves and he's happy.

"And now for the Triwizard Tournament. This, students, is the Goblet of Fire – a powerful object, meant to chose the true ones, the ones who can compete – our champions." There was a pause. "Now if you will welcome Bartemius Crouch, from the Ministry, who will explain the rules."

But Harry doesn't pay attention to what he says; even as the Hall erupts in boo's over the announcement that the Tournament is only for those who have already reached there seventeenth birthday. He doesn't care. Rayna is smiling at him, gorgeous as ever and he feels his heart melt.

And yet not like before, there's something missing (and he actually knows what, it's missing blond hair and gray eyes and dreamy smiles), but he doesn't know what it is.

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**I just updated in a month. haha, it's the end of the world. But I guess the story is finally going where I want it to go. Your reviews are always appreciated, thank you so much for reading this chapter.**

_xoxo_


	7. Unison

Story being revised.

Dark Light (Revised)

Unison

~ _one hand love the other, so much on me_

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Lavender Brown lies sometimes.

She tosses her hair away from her shoulder (brown heavy curls and yes, she does have her father's hair) and passes by a group of third years when she leaves the Great Hall. They gossip about her – 'I heard she dumped Seamus Finnigan for Harry Potter' and 'Oh, God, she is so lucky.' She winks at them.

Her interactions with the 'enemy' make her own house wary around her. Even Padma tiptoes around her new friendships (and here, in the middle of her internal monologue she catches sight of a blond mop and picks up her pace).

"Malfoy." He stops, turns around at the sound of her voice echoing in the empty corridor. She notices that before this year she rarely saw him alone (and his tone lacks his usual cockiness and he isn't bothered at all that a Gryffindor calls him out in public and his eyes just seem so much more tired than before).

"Brown." He acknowledges, nodding his head (his eyes so gray she wonders just how many girls before made fools of themselves in front of him just to get his attention).

"Where's Harry?" Is the only decent question she can ask – she'd lie if she said she wasn't intimidated by his tall frame or the fact that his father worshipped a cold blooded killer (and there is also that air of superiority he always carries around, though it has to be expected).

There it is, the familiar Malfoy smirk spreading onto his face and making his features more lively than they were a few seconds ago – she thinks it's the closest thing to an emotion he can manage.

"Off chasing Luna." The name is familiar, though at first she's not sure if she's heard correctly.

"Luna Lovegood?" At the blonde's nod – she blinks a few times (and here her mind has started laughing in pure hysteria because this is just, it can't). "But why?" Draco Malfoy is giving her a look that says clearly 'you know why' and she does know it's just – Luna Lovegood is odd to say the least, always babbling on about nargles and that paper her father writes. "Oh."

"Don't get your hopes up. He is rather infatuated with her – he just hasn't realised it yet." How come the men that are nice to her never want her? Why is she never the one? She tries just so hard and – "Lavender." Her name catches her off guard. Did Draco Malfoy just call her out by her first name?

"Sorry, I was thinking." She expects a jab here, but the blond merely shrugs and she can see that his patience has come to an end. "Thanks, Draco." The name seems foreign in her mouth without the last name following up and yet it's oddly… domestic. "See you around." With that she walks the other way, lost deep in thoughts, not catching the odd glance the blonde throws at her.

Sometimes, Lavender Brown lies to herself.

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He finds her perched high up in the Astronomy tower. The place reminds him of a shooting place, he can see a soldier throwing arrows from here – protected by the height and invisible to those who might want a shot.

"Luna." The name escapes his lip and she doesn't turn to acknowledge his apparition (and here he knows she heard him walk in – not sure why he knows it, but he does).

"Hello Harry." When he finally reaches her, she smiles (always that dreamy smile of hers and it is soothing). He climbs up and stares at the sky with her – something he would have never attempted had it not been for the need to be _next_ to her.

He waits a few second, the moon shining bright and yet not full.

"I didn't see you leave the Great Hall." Here there is a 'I was worried', but he doesn't need to say it because she's just so good at reading between the lines (so much like Rayna and yet the difference hits him painfully in the face because Rayna sees him as a brother and has known him for almost seven years now and she views him as – well he doesn't know how she views him, but her opinion could crush him).

"Oh, it's okay. You were busy." And he understands the 'you were _too_ busy and too caught up' and he feels uneasy – but she doesn't look bothered, not at all and it's unnerving.

"I want you to meet them." Again, he means 'I wanted you to meet them earlier' – and he is rewarded with a sincere smile, making her cheekbones more apparent (in the dead of night, he feels lucky she can't see him blush and he never blushes, not even for Rayna).

His brain is rolling its eyes.

"Sure." And with that he smiles back. He notices the small scar on her cheek and she notices him noticing it – but shrugs telling him it's not important (nothing should ruin this moment, especially not Cho Chang and her mindless frivolity). "Would you like some tea?" He is reminded of their first meeting.

"Isn't it a little late?" She smiles, the moonlight reflecting in those gray eyes of hers (and here he thinks her and Draco are so much alike physically, it's a little disturbing).

"Come on. I'll show you the kitchen." Mischief is evident in her tone and he smirks, because he can keep up with her. She grabs his hand as she gets off the windowsill and when she makes the motion of letting go – he grabs on tighter.

Nothing should be able to ruin this moment, not even his heart that is painfully reminding him that he is never the one.

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Draco walks into the Slytherin common room well past midnight (and when you know the right way – it's quite impossible to get caught). It's empty, save for a few seventh years and _her_.

He isn't quite sure why she's here (Harry is off doing Merlin knows what with Luna and if he finds out something happened he might as well beat his new friend senseless and here he laughs because there are so many other brothers who probably thought that about him before and Luna isn't technically his sister and he never told her that it's him who takes care of _them_), but he goes to sit next to her anyways – not ready to go to bed just yet.

"You're Harry's friend." The girl looks rather attractive sitting there dressed all in black, the only splash of color on the bottom of her pyjama pants. He hair is pulled upwards in a long braid and he can't blame his friend for being completely mesmerized whenever she walks into the room.

"Yeah, and you're Draco." She says with a Cheshire cat grin and he loosens his tie – might as well make himself comfortable although his mother would frown at such behaviour in front of a young lady.

"You want to talk about Harry, I guess." Why other would this visitor come to seek him in the middle of the night? She nods and leans back into the leather couch which whines at the friction. She fits here, he notes dully, in a sea of green and silver, greed and cold.

"I need to know how he's cooping – he'll never tell me all of it. Doesn't want me or Victor to worry." He thinks back at his new friend's action. Most days, he looks perfectly cold – almost like a statue. He makes small talk with Draco during lunch and sometimes with Lavender Brown. But his place isn't at Hogwarts: it's obvious.

"He doesn't belong here." Then again, he doesn't either. Neither does Luna, who seems out of space most times or, now that he thinks of it, Lavender Brown who is clearly not sorted into the right house.

"I know." She sighs. "I know – but we're trying to find a way and yet there's nothing." And then, she bites her lip. "At least he's doing better than I expected." And he Draco smirks because he knows just whose fault that is.

"Oh, I'm sure." And the teenage girl sends him a look that means 'spill' and he chuckles quietly to himself. "You haven't met her yet." He eyes go a little bit wider at what he is insinuating and for the first time he sees her grin.

"I can't believe it."

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Anger and bitterness make up for a rather lovely thing – and here Lavender thinks that she's becoming more and more like her aunt Cynthia (the old hag who wants every men who comes into view and then puts a stamp on them as though they were hers).

Her house has turned her back on her. Harry is off doing merlin knows what and she doesn't see herself strutting over the Slytherin table for polite chitchat with Draco Malfoy (although he does have a certain appeal and even if he only contributes two to three words per conversation, she finds his presence not unpleasant).

She sees Luna Lovegood almost skipping towards the Great Hall for breakfast and feels a pinch in her heart (and is this what jealousy feels like?). Right then the image of her aunt appearing in her living room in the middle of the night, drunk and crying and bitter – and no, Lavender refuses.

"Luna." The name is said more forcefully than she wanted, but the blonde girl stops and stares at her with something keen to wonder. Blue eyes tinged with gray and has the girl always mirrored her soul in those eyes?

It's Saturday morning and the girl is dressed in gray tights and a light blue shirt that shows through her with a purple jacket (and here Lavender cringes because it's in her duty to get the girl better clothes).

"I was wondering – well, maybe you'd want to eat breakfast together." And here Lavender feels stupid because in the three years the blonde girl's been in Hogwarts she never even attempted conversation and maybe she does come out as a fool –

"I'd love to." Her blue eyes are sparkling and Lavender blushes – even if she's not really sure why. It's just the way she looks at you. The smile lights up her face and makes her look lost in the clouds. The curly haired girl smiles back.

She'll never be like her aunt or her mother, when she thinks about it – she can't become like them, has to break the habit.

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Harry laughs lightly at something Rayna says.

She smiles back, Viktor smiling too – even though his friend is tensed more so than usual. The countdown has been set in a week, he feels as though the Triwizard tournament doesn't appeal to his friend (here there is very little doubt that his friend will not be chosen, he is Durmstrang champion and the tittle will always remain).

His face lights up.

"Luna." He calls out – and if he is surprised to see Lavender by his side, he doesn't show it. The two girls stop and both smile. Lavender looks particularly pretty today, dressed in a simple pair of tight jeans and a red dress shirt (Gryffindor thick and through). Luna would pale in comparison for any other boys and yet all he thinks about is that her shirt matches his.

He barely remembers Rayna and Viktor and sprints towards them. Luna's smile is beckoning and it's only when Rayna and Viktor catch up that he bothers to make presentations (here he thinks that he would much rather be somewhere alone with her and do things his teacher/guardian wouldn't like so much).

"Girls. These are my friends – Rayna and Viktor." Recognition flashes in Lavender's eyes when he mentions Viktor Krum, but it's quickly gone. "This is Luna and Lavender." Rayna smiles, almost like she knows something (and it's not like she or Draco bothered with the details of their little talk last night when he came in the Slytherin common room). And she steps up to shake hands.

Overly formal – but what else would he expect.

"Hi." Luna says – in the clouds once again (and if only he could reach where she is, just for a second he would know what…).

"What were you girls up to?" Rayna says politely and yet there's mischief in her voice that only Viktor catches and her boyfriend smiles at her scheming.

"Just a walk around the castle." Lavender is the one who answers and she eyes him (even though he isn't actually paying attention to her, love sick puppy that he is indeed and how can he possibly not know?)

"Oh." And here he feels his loyalty to his friend tighten and he does want to go, but he can't just leave them and –

"How about you give us a tour of the castle." And here even Rayna turns around to look at her boyfriend who said something with his thick accent.

"Yeah, sure." Lavender smiles at them both and Harry nods.

He is so clueless.

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In Luna's mind everything is always slower. She receives information and processes slowly until the answer she wants to give is out of her mouth.

But even she can't deny that this week went by faster than before. Lavender sticks to her as though they have always been best friend (though sometimes she'll catch the girl staring into space without any expression and Luna can tell something is bothering her, but won't comment on it) and actually tells Cho Chang to shove it up her ass when she makes stupid remarks. Harry wanders around at night, some nights even coming to gaze at the stars with her in the astronomy tower.

She catches Draco a few times in the library and he makes snarky allusion about her and Harry – but she doesn't want to believe it. Can't actually believe it. Harry's friends are friendly enough though the one who makes most of the talking is his friend Rayna (the girl actually has something brewing in her mind and she catches the small glances she sends her and the smiles and maybe even relief?).

And here she is, Friday night after supper. The Great Hall has been redecorated to fit the Goblet of Fire in the center. Some sixth years are trying to put their names in it even though they already know it won't work.

"Why would anyone want to compete? It's so dangerous." She turns to look at her newfound friend who shivers at the thought of a competition devised to kill.

"Eternal fame sometimes trumps the want to live." Draco replies in the seat just under them. She sees how the two act and wonders –

"Hey, guys." Harry says smiling, talking a seat next to Draco. It feels as though the four of them have known each other for a while and have fallen into a pattern.

Lavender sits with her at lunch, the Gryffindor table buzzing with gossip she doesn't want to listen to. Draco studies with her at night and Harry seeks her out to watch the stars. She smiles contently at her situation.

That's when they see Viktor come in the room, paper in hand and Rayna looking glum. She's been worried sick and it shows: she looks tired and unhappy.

They take a seat next to Harry, a few Durmstrang students also waiting anxiously. And then Dumbledore comes in and the masquerade begins.

"Settle down." He is flocked by the two other headmasters. "And now, what you have all been waiting for – the choosing of our champions." The Goblet lights up making for a nice theatrical show. It spits out a name.

"Our Beauxbatons champion: Miss Fleur Delacourt." People cheer and the pretty blond haired girl is given a pat on the back by the giant headmistress – while disappearing behind closed doors.

It lights up again and Draco yawns, causing Harry to smile and hit his friend in the shoulder.

"And our Durmstrang champion: Viktor Krum." People cheer louder than before and Viktor nods before getting up. Rayna's worries have been confirmed and she sees Harry taking his best friend's hand in his. She can't imagine what it's like.

"And finally, our Hogwarts champion…" Dumbledore waits a second before it spits out another name, catching the paper effortlessly, he says: "Cedric Diggory." People clap and she sees the Hufflepuff all polite and modest nodding his head and getting a pat on the back from their headmaster.

"And that is all…" But the fire picks up again and the Goblet spits out. one. last. name.

"Harry Potter." He reads out loudly and Harry is probably almost breaking his friend's hand. Rayna chokes back a sob and Lavender's eyes have gone wide. Draco holds Harry's sleeve, not ready to let go.

"Harry Potter." It's said louder this time, in frenzy. But when she looks back at her friend, his face has hardened and his muscles are clenched. It looks like he's hyperventilating.

"No." She hasn't realized it, but she says it out loud and now all eyes are watching Harry's next move carefully. He gets up, looks around as though he expects this to be a joke and when he finally realizes it isn't – he walks away.

Luna's heart stops.

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**So here is chapter 7, what did you think? It's a bit longer than the others, but I'm getting there and I also don't want to story to have that many chapters. Next time there will be dragons and a ball and a certain professor that will come back. Also, three characters missing will finally be revealed and why they aren't there. Till next time ;) please review :)**


	8. Deep

Story being revised.

Dark Light (Revised)

Deep

_~ but things will only stay this way so long as they stay down deep_

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There are those times when everything in his head stands still and his body takes over. Green eyes don't sparkle with life any more, but he still manages to move quickly enough. He doesn't know here he is going and yet, he knows because he is following a pattern he already knows. Turn right here and then stairs will led you down. The gates open, familiar and yet so new – he doesn't remember ever seeing them.

It takes him a moment to feel Viktor's hand on his shoulder and as his best friend pulls him from the entrance, he can't really say anything. He doesn't even know what to do and all that plays in his head is the constant cry of his name 'Harry Potter' a mantra that is being repeated over and over again almost lulling him back to sleep.

He looks up as someone yells his name, a voice he can't remember hearing. It's too strong and he doesn't recognize it, but Viktor serves as a human shield and his friend, not intending to move an inch, is waiting for him to wake the fuck up. But the wheels in his head aren't turning hard enough.

"I'm sure he did not put his name in." He knows the thick accent, has grown up with it really. His best friend is probably looking at Dumbledore with harsh stubbornness and it dawns on him that this is the headmaster's fault. If he hadn't been sent here, if he was still in Durmstrang (there is blond hair that linger in his head just for a moment, but then it's gone and replaced with deep black and his brain sighs at the loss of progress) this would not be happening.

Something snaps inside him, pure hatred mixed with rage. His fists clench on their own accord and he feels his knuckles becoming white.

"He's been chosen. I'm afraid Mister Potter will have to compete." He pushes Viktor aside, his best friend stares at him – not stunned, but there is something different stretched on his face. He stares at the headmaster and the Ministry's man, feels something boiling in his stomach.

"I'm not going to compete." There is really no way to make him participate. He's not even seventeen and he's never wanted eternal fame and all that glory – his name already too much.

"You don't have…" He's tired of people telling him that. Up until a few months ago, he still had plenty of choices. They've taken him away from his home, the school he'd grown in and the man who'd taken it upon his shoulders to raise him so he wouldn't have to suffer the relatives they sent him to.

"I do. You can't make me compete." His eyes are shooting green fire, killing curse in full gear. He's ready to burn them all down and leave no one alive. He feels mad, knowing fully well that later on this outburst will tire him out. But for the time being he feels powerful enough as all the adults stare at each other, waiting.

Finally, after a few short breaths and abnormally heavy sighs, the other Champion from Hufflepuff cuts the silence and merely adds:

"It's not like he wanted to." Something churns inside of him: it could be gratefulness. He'll have plenty of time to thank him later. There is no way he's letting them getting away with it, not this time. Hogwarts, he can tolerate, but not if it means competing for something he has absolutely no interest in (this train of thoughts remind him of Rayna and he smirks wickedly – he needs to go back to the Harry from before, the one who was sorted in Slytherin for another reason than just pissing the world).

"We'll see what we can do." The man from the Ministry finally adds, loosening his tie and with a drop of sweat leaking off his forehead. "But there is a chance you will have to compete, remember." The subject is closed and it's better than nothing. He makes them squirm, feels Viktor grabbing him and leading him out before he has a chance to set the office on fire.

He sees Rayna waiting for them in the corridor, followed by Luna who is miles away again. Something clicks inside his head and he knows that what he has with Luna will never measure up to the love Rayna can give him (here, his brain rolls it's eyes and wonders just what it will take for him to realize). Lavender is having a panic attack, Draco's hand on her back as he tells her to calm down.

He quite likes his little group of friends and is glad in a way to have met them, but Viktor and Rayna mean so much to him and loyalty cannot be erased that easily. He takes the decision that this summer he'll be back with Professor Levski and that, even if he has to return to Hogwarts, at least he'll be with his caretaker, his real family.

Rayna eyes him warily as though she doesn't recognize him for a moment. And then something keen to understanding flashes in her eyes and she knows and… she smirks and goes to hug him, like she would have done a few months ago. Viktor stands alongside and when his girlfriend gives him a kiss, Harry feels that pinch in his chest – it's been so long and it isn't so hard, but it's still there.

"So?" Draco asks. Harry has a feeling his new friend has also caught on and even Luna, with her dreamy eyes and the way she stares straight ahead into his soul knows something has shifted. But instead of having an answer, Harry laughs and then laughs again. Rayna stares at him as though he's gone mad and when he bends down because he has difficulty breathing, Draco chuckles a bit at his stupid behaviour. Even Luna smiles at his erratic outburst. There's just Lavender who is still at loss.

This situation is too ridiculous to try and comprehend, and yet they all know that something's changed.

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Lavender lingers in the corridor just a bit, not really ready to face her house. It must be buzzing with gossip, the kind she'd usually part take in, but it just seems hollow now. She wonders how in two weeks, her personality could change so drastically. She doesn't want to sit down and babble about some hot guy, she likes to chat happily with Luna about things she's never ever dreamed of.

She likes those times when it's the four of them, sitting down and studying or sometimes eating breakfast with her new friend. She also likes the way Draco's hand lingers on her back, never too close and yet there in a way she can't forget –

She says the password before she can finish that thought and the portrait opens to reveal the Gryffindor house buzzing away with soft chatter and games. The fire is lit, too cold and yet still early September, the rain and the humidity chilling to the bone.

She doesn't stop to chat with her mates, instead goes straight to her dorm. It's empty, but she isn't really surprised given that it's nine p.m. on a Friday. She hears the droplets of rain falling harshly against the window in an odd rhythmic pattern.

Too tired to change, and completely drained from all those thoughts in her head, she gets under her covers and enjoys how everything is still and quiet around her.

Sleep comes rather easily and yet, nightmares are making her livid and imagine the worst and cause her to wake up a few times during the night dabbled in sweat.

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Luna wonders around the castle, this time deciding against the Astronomy tower. She's grown reckless reading that book her father sent to her and when she hears the rain stop, takes this as an opportunity for a late night walk. Her boots squish every time she takes a step.

She stops however, when she reaches the main opening to the grounds. There she is, Harry's friend, looking lost and staring straight ahead, cancer stick held gently by two fingers. Her hair is undone and now falls long on her shoulder. Luna stops next to her, not really announcing her presence – but they share more in common than anyone cares to say.

"Luna." The older girl turns to give her a gentle smile, the name pushing past her lips and almost whispered and it's such a change from the powerful girl she is used to see strutting down the hall with her boyfriend. The girl looks drained, tired and deep in thought.

"I was talking a walk, do you want to join me?" It seems the only proper thing to do and a walk always clears her head and Rayna obviously needs to clear hers or else she wouldn't be standing there staring blankly a head.

The fifteen year old takes a drag of her cigarette, but nods anyways. She follows her around, the ground sparkling with fresh raindrops and the moon shinning. They finally reach the top of the hill (she is walking around without a purpose and yet she knows her feet were already leading her up there, have done it countless of times).

The grown is wet and yet Luna doesn't mind as she sits down in front of the three tombstones, paying her respects silently. It seems odd to come here with someone, odder that this person actually wants her company. But things have changed in just the three weeks she met him sitting down in park.

"What happened?" The girl stays upright, reaches inside her pocket to pick out a cigarette and light it up. The smoke blows in the wind, making odd shapes.

"Oh." And yet again, she is reminded that this was a closed affair and that Hogwarts and the London Ministry of Magic do like to keep their dirty little secrets under closed doors. "It was four years ago, before I received my letter, there was an accident." Well, not so much as an accident, but she doesn't really know what to call it other than that. It's always been called 'the accident', but it seems like so much more.

"There was this professor. He taught Defense Against the Dark Arts." At that, the other girl snorts, but still doesn't say anything. "Turns out he had Voldemort attached to his soul and that he was planning to steal the Philosopher's Stone – so he could be brought back to life." Rayna looks at her, cancer stick between the lips.

"Well, there was this boy, this first year, Neville Longbottom…" She points to the tombstone situated in the middle. "That knew what was coming and tried to warn everybody, but they wouldn't listen." There is a pause, questioning her school's true motive because they had to know, they had to. "And when no one would do anything, well, he got the help of two other students who actually believed him." Hermione Granger and Hannah Abbott are graved on the other two gravestones.

"They were killed by Voldemort, but still managed to stop him from coming back that night. After that, they were buried here."

"Your school has a lot of flaws, dear." Yes, Luna knows. She loves Hogwarts, but sometimes she has to wonder what exactly is going on inside and if they actually care. "You and your friends should get out of here." She turns wide-eyed to the older girl, not really knowing what to reply.

"I mean, something is going on – I'm sure you can sense it to. Harry being brought here and his name being put in, I don't know what it is yet, but surely you've noticed too." Luna nods. "And I have a feeling that when it does happen, we'll all want to be elsewhere."

The moon is too bright for her taste that night, almost like a warning. She's just found her new friends and quite likes them. She isn't ready to lose, not ready at all.

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Draco stares at his friend as he reads. The youngest Malfoy has, him too, an opened book on his lap – but he can't concentrate properly and would rather analyze the change is his friend's behaviour. Yes, he does admit, that when he met Harry Potter, the boy's attitude lacked something. He seemed too passive, not Slytherin worthy.

"It's rude to stare, Drake." Adorable little nickname that not a lot of people used and he never really had anyone call him that. It seems that this year is the first that people actually got close to him because they wanted to and not because they had to. His friend smirks at him, all dark and mischievous and he can't help the smirk that plays on his own lips.

"I know, but you're just too fascinating to watch." Harry chuckles lightly and closes the book that he'd been reading. There is something going on in the Slytherin common room, a little party just like every Saturday. He would have gone, but getting drunk and bedding an older girl doesn't appeal to him right now.

Heartfelt questions were never his style although he does worry about his friend's mental stability. Something has changed in Harry's eyes when he came out of Dumbledore's office, a shift in personality, and he wonders just what made this cattiness come back because there is very little doubt that this is the Harry from before.

His friend removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I wonder what the first task will be." Oh, but there are rumours. The Triwizard Tournament is known for life threatening challenges, ones that can scar you for life. He doesn't mind a little scaring, is too damaged from his own personal hell, and given the chance he would have put his name in.

"Probably surviving and day and night with Dumbledore." Harry scoffs and yet likes the bitter humour. Truth to be told, he never really had a problem with the old fool – but family rivalry and prejudices made him and the other Slytherin easy targets. "I know you didn't put your name in." He just wants his friend to be sure that his mind is made up and that he knows someone is conspiring against him.

There is an off smile, as if he's now far away.

"I know." But there is also an 'I didn't doubt you' unsaid and for once Draco is flattered to be this loyal.

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"I know what the first challenge is." Lavender just plops down at the Slytherin table, not caring about the looks the other people up this early give her. She's too proud of herself, but rather of her skill to eavesdrop. Luna follows behind her and sits down more quietly before smiling at the two Slytherin. Harry smiles back (and here it will be good to add that it's not his usual resigned smile, but a cool one – worthy of Slytherin).

"Well, what is it?" Draco looks up from his book, a bit in curiosity. He hates when people deliver a punch and don't finish their train of thoughts. Lavender gives him a glance (and when has looking at him ever become an issue?)

"He's going to have to battle a Dragon." Luna tilts her head to the side as Draco looks at Harry. His reaction is meant to be frightened, but all he does is munch on some scrambled eggs. He looks up and at their baffled looks, rolls his eyes.

"What?"

"Please chew before speaking dear, it's disgusting." Rayna sits down next to them, right next to Luna. The two hadn't exchanged other words after their walk yesterday, merely a few 'goodnight' and 'pleasant dreams'. Viktor doesn't follow and no one really questions that – probably training already.

"You're late." Almost like they were supposed to meet. It's ten on a Saturday morning and so for her to be late is far stretched enough. She smiles, brushes off his comment and grabs two pieces of toast.

"What were you talking about?"

"Lavender found out what the first task was going to be." Draco says and Rayna looks at the girl in approval before resuming buttering her bread.

"So, what is it?"

"It involves dragons." There is a pause and here is worry flashing in the fifteen years old eyes, worry directed at her boyfriend who is already training and it does make sense. But it's soon gone and replaced by the unfazed look she always seems to wear. Luna can't imagine what it's like for her and feels quite sympathetic.

"How did you find out?" Lavender props her elbows on the table and Draco ticks at the lack of table manners. She pulls her tongue at him and plainly ignores his grimace.

"I stole a letter Ronald Weasley received from his brother. His eldest brother is a dragon tamer and he said he was coming by for the first task to 'minimize' the damage." After that, it was quite easy to figure the first task – dragons were risky and even if Lavender knew that the Goblet of Fire meant eternal fame, she wouldn't face third degree burn for it.

"Are you sure you were sorted in the right house?" Draco likes to tease her about that more and more. She always believed to be a Gryffindor and she still does. It was probably just them rubbing off on her.

"So, I'm going to battle a dragon?"

"We'll help, I'm sure we can find something to prevent from you becoming a human torch."

"You're too kind." Draco smirks at his friend and Harry rolls his eyes while Rayna takes the jam and adds a generous amount on those two pieces of toasts.

"Actually, I called someone who could help – he should be getting here in about… now." She checks the time on the clock, turns to her piece of toast as Dumbledore passes by the large opened oak doors and a man following closely on his heels.

Luna turns around at the sudden entrance. Commotions in the Great Hall on a Saturday morning are pretty unheard of and those occasions are mostly a Weasley pranks gone wrong, so no one except first years really pay attention to it – but this is not a prank. The man is clearly mad, eyes dark and stance ready to fight. He doesn't even realize that everyone's eyes are on him and the Hogwarts headmaster.

"Professor Levski." Harry flashes a grateful smile towards his best friend before bolting up and running towards the front where the teachers usually sit. He looks like a little kid who just saw his parents.

"Who's that?" Lavender asks and, really, her and Draco were also wondering. Luna admires her friend, the way she always voices her thoughts. They all do, but really – watching is more fun for them. Draco sends her a glance and she smiles at him.

"That's Harry old guardian." Ah, that explains it. Although Harry never spoke about Durmstrang, it seemed odd that the only two people to count as relatives for him were Rayna and Viktor. But now that explains it, also explains why Harry wanted to remain in Durmstrang – his guardian is a teacher there.

Luna's glad for him and when she sees the man pulling the fourteen year old into his arms and the way Harry smiles just like a teenagers, she knows that he doesn't belong here. Taking a look at Draco and Lavender who have started bickering again about some thing or another, she also knows that when they do notice – there won't be a place here for a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, especially not with the name Malfoy in jeopardy.

Rayna was right, something is going on and she can sense it now more than before. She can't really know what, but her stomach churns as she watches the twinkle in Dumbledore eyes as Harry reunites with his old guardian.

She needs a plan.

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.

..

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**Chapter 8 is a bit late, but it's longer than usual. Anyways, did you like the explanations about Hermione and Neville's absences? Next chapter will be the First Task and also the Yule Ball, wonder who Draco and Harry are going to ask... anyways, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed and please review :)**


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